


Immunity

by signifier



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, graphic description of suicide, some people tagged are already dead soz, subtle mentions of jack/geoff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: There was supposedly, a group, that lived right in the heart of the city, the most overrun area of Los Santos. Achievement City, it was known as, due to the fact that it was an achievement to survive longer than an hour while you were there. It was said that this group was immune. It was said that this group was immortal.Michael didn't believe in such bullshit. Not until he saw it first hand, that is.-"But- but you were fucking dead!""Yeah, and now I'm not."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> be sure to check for tag updates as shit goes down!

Michael did not do groups.

They were complicated and reckless and loud. They led to arguments - people always had conflicting ideas and preferences, and an argument in the present day was dangerous. Michael had seen his fair share of groups torn apart by what normally started as simple disagreements. He was pretty sure he could remember the worst of it all down to the last detail.

He had met his most memorable group on a run for supplies and they’d hit it off right away. He’d been weary, of course, as he was with all the new people he came across. It was logical to assume that nobody friendly was left. But they had been. They’d swapped stories and booze and Michael found himself quickly enjoying their company. They teamed up easily and for a while things worked out smoothly.

There was Bruce - he was the one everyone turned to when looking for a new plan, but he was also known to be reckless and often his ideas had to be modified. Thats where Adam came in. Adam had a way to subtly make adjustments to plans that secured everyone’s safety, although Bruce caught him out on it a few times but it was all accepted in good fun. Lars was good with his hands. He could fix up a car with limited resources and was always looking for ways to improve on people’s weapons. Michael had gotten a pretty sick knife out of that and he still had it, too. The handle was a knuckle duster. Elyse and James, the married couple, made up the rest of their group. Elyse made sure everyone was doing okay - the mother hen as Michael liked to call her, but she could be ruthless and fire back shots just as easily as she could take them. She was always sweet to him. James was an excellent shot and he and Michael often competed for kills. As far as Michael knew, he was still winning.

It ended bloody.

The atmosphere had gotten tense with supplies getting low and the constant talk of where they were going next had everyone on edge. Bruce ended up getting them into a situation that they barely escaped from, and it was all downhill from there.

A screaming match ended with a hole in Adam’s head, Bruce’s gun smoking from releasing the bullet. Two more shots followed. Lars put down Bruce and then James gave Lars the same treatment. Michael would never forget the overwhelming silence that had washed over the three of them that remained. Elyse told him that they were heading to Achievement City, and that he was welcome to come along. He refused, but he wished them the best. He hoped they had made it.

Michael was alone again for a while after that, before he met a woman named Lindsay. She was fierce, a blazing passion to her that attracted Michael straight away. She could hold her own and didn’t take any of Michael’s shit, but at night, when they huddled for warmth around a glowing fire on the roof of a building, Lindsay spoke of the world. She spoke of traveling and concerts and hot coffee. She told Michael of her family, and he told her about his. It was raining the first time they kissed. Michael could feel the chill of the water on his skin, sinking it’s way into his clothes with ease, but Lindsay’s body against his was warm and her lips were soft and just for a second he could pretend that they weren’t surrounded by flesh eating monsters and that everything would be okay.

Her death hit him hard.

It was a bite that got her, or maybe it was the bullet that she put in her own head as soon as she said goodbye. All Michael knew was that part of him had died with her.

So, no. Michael did not do groups. He didn’t do partners or alliances or trades. He kept to himself and it had been keeping him alive so far. It wasn’t the virus that killed you in this day and age, after all. It was the people that made you care for them.

 

-

 

If he could avoid it, Michael wouldn’t leave his building. He was hauled up in a hotel just outside Achievement City. It had taken him a few days to clear out the whole place, but it had been worth it. When he first arrived at the hotel he’d had supplies for months. He spent his time wandering the halls, finding odd souvenirs from people that once were and taking guesses on the lives that the people of Los Santos had led. His favourite souvenir so far was a couple of voodoo dolls that he’d found ina busted wardrobe. He had decided that they belonged to a cult of women who had used them to bring the virus down as a punishment to all the men who had wronged them. He thought Lindsay would have liked that. Michael read a lot, too. You’d be surprised how many different books you can find in a hotel. There were comedies, horrors, romance novels, plays, even a few comics. He liked the stories, liked the way they could take him away from the hell he was currently living in, even if it was just for a few hours.

One thing that hadn’t changed with the apocalypse was the fact that supplies ran out fast. As the months past Michael felt the dread slowly crawl it’s way towards him as he made the decision to venture into the city for supplies.

He had a feeling things were about to go very wrong.

 

-

 

Achievement City would have been beautiful, if the undead hadn’t made it their place of inhabitance. Hell, Michael could _still_ appreciate the beauty of it. The plantation was overgrown, wrapping the concrete buildings in a certain colour of green that Michael found himself loving. Cars were brown with rust and lampposts lay sideways in the street. He wasn’t entirely sure how that happened. His favourite part of the city by far, though, was the tallest building in the area. It loomed over the rest of the city, watching and taking in everything that happened down below. It was made of a special reflective metal, meaning whoever was inside could see out, but you couldn’t see in. Sometimes, when the sun hit the metal in just the right place, the whole building lit up straight gold. They called it The Tower.

Michael knew of the people who took residence in The Tower, too. He’d never met them, but he’d heard stories from groups and people passing by. That’s all anyone heard these days, just stories. They had many names, too. Michael always seemed to hear different names and different stories. He had overheard a conversation where they were called Munies. Lindsay called them Fakes. Adam called them Legends.

The general tale went that five men had taken up place in Achievement City, living recklessly, wandering without weapons, killing geeks for sport. Then the stories started to spin. People spoke of them being immune to the virus, seeing them dive off buildings for dares, testing how many bites it takes to kill you instantly. He once met a particularly religious group that claimed they had sold their souls to the devil. People said they were immortal. Michael called bullshit on that. Nobody was immortal. Sure, the dead were rising but that wasn’t immortality, that was some form of fucked up science. _Nobody_  was immortal.

Michael could recall the exact second that everything went to shit. He had made his way soundlessly into a small corner shop, and lucky for him, there was still some items left. He barricaded the front doors with a couple of empty stalls and then kept low, not wanting the dead’s unseeing eyes to catch him through a window. He loaded his bag, making quick work of the shop before he saw something truly valuable. Laying wide eyed and dead on the floor was the shop clerk - uniform and all. There was a pistol in her cold hand. If there was anything rarer than food, it was ammo, which is why Michael liked to stick to his melee weapons. The knife Lars had made him still worked perfectly fine, after all. But sometimes a gun was needed. It was useful for a way out in more ways than one. He crept across the floor, bag discarded halfway through packing up tins as he reached the girl. She looked younger than he was. Carefully, Michael reached out a hand and started to uncurl her fingers from the weapon.

Dead man’s grip, they called that.

It was almost free, just one finger left and that one finger just so happened to be resting on the trigger. Carefully, he started to remove the finger. That’s when it all went to shit.

The gun fired as the clerks finger caught on the trigger and Michael stumbled backwards, his heart racing from the shock. He pressed a hand to his right ear, a low ringing deep in his skull. Then he heard them. A soft groan erupted from outside and Michael felt a pang of anxiety in his chest. He heard the dragging of worn shoes on concrete, heard the pounding of rotten fists on glass. Michael stood up, there was no use in hiding now, and turned to look at the windows.

Geeks stood looking in, hands smearing all kinds of dirt down the glass as they hit and scratched and tried to make their way inside. There were so many of them that they were blocking out the light from the sun and Michael knew that with time, the glass would crack. He picked up the discarded gun, cursed himself for not seeing that it was already cocked and moved to pick up his bag. He threw the last of the supplies inside, zipping it closed and throwing it over his shoulder. Then he simply stood and waited - gun in one hand, knife in the other.

It was inevitable that the geeks would get inside. That was his only exit, he had checked that when he first arrived. Not to mention that geeks were _strong,_ maybe not one on it’s own, but a big group like the one Michael was faced with was practically a death sentence. He watched as the glass started to crack, dirty, prying fingernails picking at the spot over and over. Then the entire window pane smashed. Michael shielded his eyes from the stray glass before bending his knees, ready for action as the dead started to pile in. He took shot after shot, putting them down from afar before the pistol ran out of bullets. He threw it to the side with a curse. Michael started forward after that, bracing a geek with a hand to it’s chest before plunging the blade into it’s head with ease. The softness of their rotting skulls still made him feel mildly sick. It didn’t take long before they overwhelmed him.

He had come close to death many times and his body had gotten used to it by now. He felt fear, at first. Fear for what would come when he did finally kick it. Then his anxiety would ease and be replaced with a small acceptance. He knew that wherever he was going, Lindsay would be there waiting, and that seemed to make the idea of death nicer, in his mind. It made him want it. Michael considered it whenever there was a gun with bullets in his hand, just a simple pull of the trigger and that would be it. He could be with Lindsay once more, listen to Bruce and Adam bicker, tell Lars how well his knife has served him. It would be so easy, so quick, so painless and then this hell would be over.

A putrid smell hit his nostrils and he struggled not to gag as he realised just how close the dead had gotten to him. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the pain that was certain to come. Except it didn’t. Right before his eyes bodies started dropping and he could hear the guns that were to ~~blame~~ thank outside. Within seconds there was a clear path to the window.

Standing outside was two men. One of them was short but well built, head shaved and sunglasses perched on his nose. He had a gun in each hand, black jeans and black body armour covering him from head to toe. The other man was taller, probably taller than Michael himself, and decked out in the exact same outfit, sunglasses and all. He had dirty blonde hair and a gun in one hand, an axe in the other. For a while, they simply stared at each other before the taller guy spoke.

“More would have heard that. You coming or what?”

Michael made his decision with ease, picking his way over the dead bodies that littered the floor and climbing out the window, glass shards biting at his hands. The men took off walking as soon as Michael was out of the building and he assumed he was to follow. So he did. The two strangers made small talk between themselves, discussing kill counts and bickering lightly over who had done more damage. Michael was almost certain they had forgotten about him as they turned down a small alley, before the shorter guy turned slightly and threw a question Michaels way.

“Who would you say killed more biters back there?”

“Uh, I couldn’t really see from where I wa-“

Michaels speech was cut off as a geek emerged from nowhere, grabbing the short man by the shoulders and sinking it’s teeth deep into his neck. The man cried out as the flesh was torn from his body, brutal and bloody. Before Michael could even think he had drawn his knife and stabbed the fucker in the temple. It was silent, save for the ragged breaths of the bitten man before he spoke.

“God dammit.”

The blonde pulled his gun from his waist, aiming it at his friends head. “Sorry Jeremy.”

Then he pulled the trigger.

Killing geeks was a sight that Michael was used to. Living people being shot, however, was not. He jumped as the shot rang out, loud and unwelcome in his ears. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that these people were indeed complete strangers and that he had no reason at all to trust them. If the other man picked up on his sudden unease, he didn’t show it, just simply put away his gun and took off walking once more. “Come on, we’re not far now.”

Michael wished he could see the man’s eyes from under his glasses. For some reason he felt like it would make him feel better. “Where are we going?”

The man paused, for dramatic effect or a train of thought, Michael wasn’t sure, but when he spoke he could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“We’re headed for The Tower.”


	2. Jeremy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d seen someone jump from a building once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my god this took me so long im so fucking sorry

The Tower was bigger up close than Michael had ever imagined. He craned his neck to look up at it and was almost certain that it could wipe out the whole city if it fell down. Traps and barricades surrounded the entrance and a few geeks had gotten caught, their hands reaching out and grabbing for the two men as they walked by.

Michael had made sure that there was a good distance between him and the other man, always keeping his hand on his knife. No conversation had been attempted until they were both inside The Tower.

“We’re going to the top floor. Hope you like stairs.”

Michael took in his surroundings as they went. There was blood on the walls and the floors, discarded weapons and boxes upon boxes of ammo lined the staircases. Michael was almost tempted to snag some and run. There were empty bottles lined up in rows, rags, clothing, bandanas all tied to the railings. The thing that caught Michaels eye the most as they climbed, however, was -

“Is that a..”

The man stopped, turning back to look at what Michael had seen. He laughed. “Oh, yeah, that’s Geoff’s. We wanted to see if it would grow back with tattoos or not.”

With that, he kept on going up the stairs. Laying next to Michaels feet, bloody and discarded, was a hand. It was covered in tattoos; a thick anchor covering the back while odd symbols danced over the knuckles.

As Michael continued to climb the stairs, his lungs burning in his chest, he started to truly picture what these people were like. A group of strong, tough, uncaring men. Men who would hold down one of their own, kicking and screaming and begging, and cut off his hand for an experiment. Men who would shoot their own in the head the second that they were bit - no kind words, no sadness, nothing. Men, Michael thought, that he was walking straight towards. Maybe he hadn’t turned and ran yet because he wasn’t sure how far he could get before this guy grabbed him. Maybe he was curious to see what these people, the rulers of Achievement City, would do to him if he came in cursing and disrespectful. Maybe he was hoping they would kill him so he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

Michael was pulled from his thoughts by his chaperone suddenly stopping, having reached the top floor. The man pushed open a door to his left, leaving it open as he sauntered in and hollered an ‘afternoon lads’. Michael took the open door as his cue to follow.

The top floor of The Tower was a huge room, all furniture from before the world turned to shit pushed to one side, save for the few sofas and chairs that lay scattered about the floor. There were random objects strewn around the room -books, pillows, weapons (one of these being a bright pink sniper rifle) and even people. There were 3 men, 2 of them sitting together, leaning over what Michael thought looked like a map. The lone man looked over first.

He looked young. Younger than his friends, anyhow. He had wild blonde hair that stuck up in random places and wide blue eyes. Light stubble traced his jaw and his nose was mildly bigger than average. He stood, a green shirt dirtied with mud hung from his shoulders. “Ryan! Whose this, Ryan?”

British. Michael took a step backwards as the new face came towards him, hand involuntarily going for his knife. The man noticed this and raised his hands in surrender, stopping in his path.

“Woah, easy there pal!”

The original man - Ryan, Michael remembered, seemed to have completely forgotten that Michael had followed him back. “Oh, right. Saved this guy from a hoard.”

The rest of the group had noticed them by now, slowly inching closer. One of the men by the map stood up, pushing his sleeves up to reveal arms full of colour and patterns. Michael’s memory flicked back to the hand on the stairs, eyes landing down on the man’s hands. He could have sworn the anchors on each matched. Perhaps this was the Geoff that Ryan had mentioned before? Which meant that.. _no._ Hands did not grow back. At first, he payed no attention to Michael, looking towards Ryan and the area around him. The man frowned and Michael could have sworn his moustache drooped along with it.

“Where’s Jeremy?”

“Got bit. I put him down.” There was an air of nonchalant in Ryan’s tone.

“Whose that?”

All eyes fell on Michael. He thought it somewhat odd that they’d moved on from their friends death so quickly, and a part of him hated all of their eyes on him. He looked to Ryan, waiting for him to explain, but the man simply raised his eyebrows. _Thanks for the help, asshole._

“Michael.”

The last man to speak gave a light smile. He was tall, ginger hair and a ginger beard framing his face. Glasses perched on the end of his nose and Michael could have sworn they were from two different pairs that had been fused together. When he spoke, his voice was calming - almost the same as Ryans, but a slightly different edge to it.

“Nice to meet you, Michael. I’m Jack, that’s Geoff, you obviously know Ryan and that scrawny prick is Gavin.”

Gavin let out a bird like squark at that. Michael didn’t know human beings could make such noises. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the door opening behind him caught his attention. He turned, eye’s catching sight of the new comer and he almost passed out on the spot.

It was Jeremy - alive and kicking.

Michael couldn’t find his words, could do nothing but simply stare with his mouth open at the very-alive-not-shot-in-the-head Jeremy.

“But - but you were fucking dead!”

“Yeah, and now I’m not.”

Jeremy moved further into the room, seeming to ignore Michaels baffled look and landed a light punch to Ryan’s arm. “Thanks for leaving me to be a human snack, asshole.”

Ryan shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

Michael couldn’t believe what he was watching. Jeremy had died. He’d seen that. Jeremy had taken a bullet to the head and fallen like a puppet with it’s strings cut. That had happened. He couldn’t stop the string of confused words escaping from him.

“But thats, but you, but-“

Their laughter cut him off and he hated it, hated them for not seeing how odd this whole situation was, hated himself for not having a clue what was happening. He felt the anger rising up in his chest.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Jeremy stepped forward, clapping a hand down on Michaels shoulder, making his jaw clench. “Let me explain.”

 

-

 

_Jeremy was running._

_The harsh wind cut at his eyes and his face and his lungs burned despite the chill of the air. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t slow down, not with the hoard of runners hot on his trail._

Michael sucked in a breath. “I’ve only come up against runners once. That’s rough.”

Jeremy nodded, a grim expression on his face.

_He climbed staircase after staircase, throwing doors closed behind him and knocking down anything that could attempt to slow down the rotten flesh that was so intent on eating him alive. Soon enough, he reached the roof. He searched frantically, the hot sun beating down on him as he tried to look for any way across to another building or down to the ground. He stood with his feet on the edge, peering down over his boots at the city below._

_It had been so beautiful._

_Jeremy was lucky enough to have grown up in Achievement City and god, what a childhood it gave you. Streets with endless turns and hiding spots for a city wide game of hide and seek, high speed car chases whipping past the school, the bright lights of the feds cars bringing every student to the window, bank heists and robbery’s and shoot outs and gang wars. Jeremy absorbed it all. It was good, being a kid in Los Santos. He could remember seeing a turf war on the very street he was looking down on now. It had been violent - bloody and rough with the guns to match. He couldn’t remember who’d won._

_There was a slow metal creak as the door to the roof was pushed open, poisonous fingertips scraping on the rusted material. Then the runners were staring at him, taunting him, and Jeremy knew there was only one way to avoid a painful death._

_He’d seen someone jump from a building once. Jeremy had found the whole thing to be very anticlimactic. People on the ground spent hours calling up to him - choruses of ‘don’t do it!’ and ‘you have so much to live for!’, spent hours trying to get into the building themselves to reach the roof, calling the police and the fire brigade and just about anything with flashing lights. In the end, the man simply stepped off. Jeremy remembered thinking that he had fallen for what felt like months before he hit the concrete with a sickening crack. That noise - he could still hear it rattling in his mind if he thought hard enough._

_He hoped it would be quick._

_With a speed that was inhuman, the runners sprinted right at Jeremy and he didnt even hesitate before taking a breath and jumping off the roof._

_The groan of the undead was replaced with the sound of rushing air and he struggled to stop his limbs from flailing as he fell. Any normal person would probably have closed their eyes, but Jeremy had his wide open - all dried out and stung as he watched his concrete landing get closer and closer._

_A single thought of ‘_ fuck’ _skipped through his mind before he hit the ground._

At some point during the story, Michael realised he’d sat down with Jeremy and let his guard slip. He regained himself, subtly moving his hand closer to his knife incase this was all just some ploy to distract him. If Jeremy had noticed he didn’t let it show.

“So, what? You just survived?”

“I woke up.”

_There was a pounding behind Jeremy’s eyes before he had even opened them. He slowly sat up, letting his eyes adjust to the light and his surroundings. Had he fallen asleep? He didn’t remember laying down, in fact, he didn’t remember ever being in the room he was currently in._

_It was dark, probably nighttime, and Jeremy realised he was sitting on a mattress. The rest of the room was bare, save from the backpack in the corner that didn’t belong to him and the man that had his back to Jeremy._

_It was hard to make out what he looked like with his back turned and the lighting so dim. A sudden rush of panic seeped into Jeremy’s chest and his eyes frantically searched the room for any sign of a weapon. He’d been kidnapped. That was the only possibly explanation. He’d been chloroformed, that was why his memory was so foggy, and now he was going to be brutally beaten to death. He couldn’t help but think_ at least it’s better than turning.

_He must have shifted too much on the mattress, as the springs creaked and the man turned. He noticed Jeremy sitting up and approached him, coming down to crouch in front of him. Jeremy cringed, bracing himself for the blow that was sure to come. He jumped slightly when the man spoke instead._

_“Hi. I’m Geoff.”_

“And I’ve been with him ever since.” Jeremy shrugged, smiling, not entirely sure how to end a story like that.

Michael was silent for a while, hand over his eyes as he tried to process everything he’d just been told.

“You..jumped from a building and just woke up..but - but how does that work? How does it make any sense? And you took a bullet to the face and just simply walk through the door like everything’s normal? That’s insane! It’s like you’re - it’s like you’r-“

Michael stopped himself before he could complete the sentence.

_It’s like you’re immortal._

It all came rushing back to him then, the stories of the munies who lived in Achievement City. He could hear Lindsays voice in his head, her bright accent laughing as she claimed ‘it’s true! They’re immortal!’ Adam was there, too, his shoulder pressed up to Michaels as they huddled for warmth, Adam telling tales of the tower and it’s legendary residents as the heat from the fire licked at their skin.

He was so lost in his own head that he hadn’t even noticed Ryan coming to stand by Jeremy, strong arms crossed and an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“By George, I think he’s got it.”


	3. Gavin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, he jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently theres a jumping theme going on

“But how? How do you come back? Do you grow back from a body part like Deadpool does-“

“Good movie.” Jack cut in, arms crossed.

Jeremy shrugged. “I never saw it.”

“Or does the wound just heal and disappear? Do you get a new body each time you come back and get to go and look over your own dead form? I bet that’s a fucking weird sight. Is there a limit to the amount of times you can die?”

Michael was so far into his own questions that he hadn’t noticed the constant cut ins to his train of thought. He hadn’t noticed the gathering of people around him either, watching with amusement as he paced up and down the floor.

Ryan couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. He stifled a giggle when Gavin leaned over and asked, “do you think he know’s we’re here?”

“Michael.” Geoff began, a slightly exasperated tone to his voice. “We don’t know any of that. Dying isn’t exactly fun - it’s not something we’ve experimented with. All we know is that we die and then we wake up a few moments later completely fine. I mean, the memory of what happened was foggy the first few times, but it gets easier and the respawns get quicker.”

Michael would have laughed at his use of the word respawn if he hadn’t noticed the underlying tone beneath his words.

Geoff did not like him. That was clear. The older man avoided his questions where Jeremy and Gavin liked to answer them, he hadn’t offered him supplies like Jack or saved his life like Ryan. Geoff kept his distance, looking at Michael with a certain distaste that set him on edge. Michael could have sworn he’d seen the man roll his eyes at a joke he’d made.

Gavin piped up then. “Maybe if you stick around long enough you could find out.”

Geoff shook his head, crossing his arms. “He can’t stay.”

Michael wasn’t sure what he had expected, but a part of him was disappointed. No, he didn’t do groups, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about this particular band of people that had him wanting to stay. Maybe it was Jacks kindness or Ryans mystery charm. Perhaps it was Gavins easy friendliness or Jeremys willingness to share information. Maybe Michael had been alone for so long and now that the chance for human interaction was offered, he didn’t want to let it go. He wanted to say _yes, I’ll stay_ and hear more stories about their adventures. He wanted to be part of the legend, wanted for other groups to tell myths of him; Michael Jones who lives in the Tower surrounded by his friends. He had half a mind to beg Geoff to let him stay, let him prove himself, but he didn’t. He was too proud for that.

Luckily for him, Ryan spoke up. “Why can’t he stay?”

Geoff shot him a look so cold Michael could feel the ice radiating off his body.

“You know why.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow and there was a challenge in his voice. “Do I now?”

Geoff stepped forward, hands by his sides in fists and mouth open to reply but Jack intercepted him with a hand on his arm and a whisper in his ear. There was something in the touch that was too intimate to just be friendly, Michael thought. The touch was soft and Geoff seemed to physically relax as Jacks breath hit his neck. After a moment, Geoff turned back to him.

“You can stay until tomorrow morning,just because it’s unsafe to travel at night. Then you’re gone.”

Michael nodded, eyes darting to the windows. He hadn’t even noticed the fall of night, had he really been there that long? When he looked back Geoff and Jack had moved away, going back to the map Michael had seen them looking at when he first arrived. Jeremy lightly kicked at Ryan’s shin.

“Why do you have to do that?”

Ryan shrugged, glancing over at Michael.

Michael knew he was missing something. He felt like the kid who hadn’t been invited to a party and he was forced to sit around and listen to all the other kids talk about the events of the night. Clearly something was going on, something personal.

He was snapped from his thoughts by a hand clapping him on the shoulder. He turned to find a grinning Gavin by his side.

“Come and sit! God, I never thought I’d have a sleepover ever again but here we are.”

Michael laughed at that, allowing himself to be led and seated around a small fire the group had going.

“Geoff’ll come round.” Gavin offered a smile as he held his hands to the flames. Michael caught the doubting look on Jeremy’s face.

“What about you then? How’d you die?” Michael turned his gaze to Ryan. He was most curious about what had got the man who seemed so capable of taking care of himself. He tried to play the question off with little care but he couldn’t help the interest that slipped into his tone. To his dismay, Ryan shook his head.

“You’ll have to earn that bit of information.”

Michael should have been disappointed but the smile that Ryan sent his way was enough to send light shivers up his spine.

He had to catch himself, at that point, as he realised how quickly he’d fallen into friendly banter. It was easy when the group was so fast to accept him and brief flashes of Bruce and Lawrence popped into his mind; their smiles and their jokes. He missed them, suddenly, missed them all as a deep longing in his chest set in, heavy on his ribs. He wanted James to tease him for his lack of kills, wanted Elyse to stay up with him when he couldn’t sleep. He wanted Lindsay. He wanted to live in the house that they’d dreamt up so many times and see her curled up on the sofa with the cat that she insisted they’d have. He wanted his friends.

Then he looked round at the people around him, these strangers who had ran in guns blazing to save his life, these strangers who were telling him stories and warming him by the fire. For a small second, he thought he could be happy here. These people were immortal. Things could work out great here. He would never have to worry about someone getting hurt or an argument ending in bloodshed, he would never get anxious over losing one of them or have to deal with the grief when one of them dies because these people, this group, they couldn’t die.

But Michael could.

“I’ll tell you my story if you want!”

Jeremy started laughing as Gavin’s words shook Michael from his thoughts.

“This one is fucking ridiculous.”

“Shut up Jeremy, whose idea was it to dress all in denim so we wouldn’t get bitten?”

“It’s impossible to bite through denim! We’d be safe!”

“You’re fucking immortal you absolute smegpot.”

Michael couldn’t help his grin at the idea.

“Anyway. Here’s how I found out that I’m basically a God.” Gavin began, ignoring the rolls of eyes around him.

 

-

 

_The place was beautiful._

_Gavin stood on the cliffside looking down at the scenery below him. It was a lagoon, water so blue he thought it belonged in a fairytale, completely surrounded by green trees and rocks. There was even a slight waterfall, the white foam contrasting almost perfectly with the crystal waters. It was difficult, in their current time, to find water that wasn’t toxic or an area that wasn’t overrun._

_“God, it’s amazing.”_

_Gavin looked to the left, a small grin forming on his face as he saw the awe in Barbaras own. The hot sun made her hair seem even lighter. He couldn’t help but agree, looking back down to the water._

_“I think Gus would have liked it.” There was a slight edge to Burnie’s tone, but the sentiment was there. Barbara scoffed._

_“Gus would have hated it and we all know it.”_

_“Gus hated everything.”_

_They allowed themselves the moment, admiring the tranquility of the aura as they thought of their friend. Gus had been stone-minded and tough. He hadn’t cared much for keeping a good relationship with the group, but underneath his cynical humour there was a tone of appreciation. Gus might not have wanted them to know, but he had cared for them and them for him. His death was still fresh in their minds._

_Gavin watched as Burnie inched closer to the edge, peering down, and for a second he thought the older man might jump, but he simply turned to the younger two and asked, “so how do we get down?”_

“I think I can see where this is going.”

“I told you, it’s fucking ridiculous.”

_The three of them wandered around the edge of the cliff, looking for a steady way down but it was clear that there was only one option._

_“I mean, it can’t be that far, right?” Barbara asked, though the doubt in her voice was obvious._

_Gavin shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”_

_So, he jumped._

Michael shook his head. “What is it with you people and jumping from tall places?”

“We’re all thrill seekers.” Ryan grinned, looking very relaxed with his legs outstretched in front of him and arms supporting him from behind.

_The fall was quick, air whipping through Gavin’s hair and messing it up more than he would normally have. There were few thoughts running through his head._

  1. _Falling was not his thing._
  2. _He could see the bottom of the lagoon._



_He could see the bottom of the lagoon, speeding towards him through his dry eyes, he helplessly tried to stop himself, limbs flailing as he tried to hold onto the rushing air. Then his clothes were wet and his skull was hitting the rocks hidden by the deep blue._

Michael cringed. Jeremy had been kind enough to not go into so much detail about his experience.

“That must have been tough on your friends, but I bet they were glad when you came back.”

Gavin shook his head, something dark falling over his expression. “I haven’t seen them since. I don’t know how long I was out for, and when I woke up I had kinda floated downstream. I..I have no idea where they are.”

Ryan reached out a hand, softly laying it on Gavin’s shoulder. Michael thought back to Elyse and James. He had no idea where they were and he couldn’t help the thought of them rotten and decomposed, mindlessly wandering the Earth with no memory of him. No memory of each other.

“I know the feeling. I’m sorry.”

Gavin smiled, looking like he was about to say something more when Jack came over. He too, offered Michael a smile.

“We’re off to bed. Don’t stay up too long, supply run tomorrow.”

The three immortals nodded, choruses of ‘sleep well’ and ‘goodnight’ filling the room.

Michael thought of tomorrow. He’d be heading back to the hotel, back to his books and his made-up-cults dolls. He’d been alone for a long time and it had never bothered him before, not when he had the memories of the people he once called family.

For the first time since the world went to shit, Michael felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.


	4. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If five words could save a human life, Jack would never have died that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so fucking sorry for how long this took me life started kicking my ass nd the motivation for writing went downhill but someone started talking about zombies today nd suddenly got me back on my bullshit (avery if u read this ily) 
> 
> HEAVY FUCKING SUICIDE TRIGGER WARNING

Michael was confused when he woke up.

The floor was hard and uncomfortable compared to the hotel beds and the room had grown cold from the death of the fire. For a second, Michael had no idea where he was, but when he sat up and caught sight of Gavin fast asleep beside him, he remembered.

It must have just been breaking dawn if the lighting outside was anything to go by. Michael got up, slowly approaching the windows. The air looked cold, fog lining the sky and making it difficult to see down to the ground. He turned back around, feeling a little sick from the height.

The residents of the Tower were dotted around the room. Gavin lay where Michael had left him, jacket rolled up under his head and one hand rested gently on his stomach. Michael could see the rise and fall of his chest from here. Jeremy was curled up by the now nonexistent fire, his hand under his head and knees pulled up towards the smoked logs, he was fidgeting as he slept. Ryan was rested against a wall by the door, slouched slightly as his head hung down, framed by loose strands of hair. There was a knife balanced on his thigh and a gun not too far from his reach. Michael couldn’t see too much of Geoff from where the man lay upon a couch on the other side of the room - his back was to him, and Jack-

Jack was awake, leaning against a window with a mug in his hand as he looked down upon the world. Michael had the strong urge to approach him, so he did. He came up beside him, following his line of sight. The man was watching a geek on a roof a few buildings away aimlessly wonder, teetering too close to the edge before managing to steer away last minute. There was a sign propped up that simply read ‘ H E L P ‘.

“Must be nice not having to worry about getting got.”

Jack turned to him when he spoke, taking a sip of his drink and regarding him in a certain manner that had Michael somewhat uncomfortable. He looked back out the window before he answered.

“It’s not as great as you’re imagining it to be.”

Michael frowned. Jack spoke with an almost sad, detached tone that didn’t match up with the others attitudes towards their situation. It didn’t match Gavin’s ridiculous death or Jeremy’s denim theory. It didn’t match Ryan’s easy ability to shoot his friend in the head and joke about it later. He kept quiet, hoping Jack would continue. He did.

“Maybe once it would have been, when the world was normal. I could have kept showing up throughout history and really fucked with some historians-“ Jack laughed slightly. “But is it really all that great when you have to spend eternity, your immunity, in a world crawling with pain and heartbreak?”

There was a slight pause, and a sigh.

“I’m tired, Michael. I’m tired of the walkers and the lack of supplies. Do you know how many times we’ve died from starvation and dehydration? I’m tired of watching my friends die - even when I know they’re going to be okay. I’m tired of watching people who can die, die.”

Michael knew there was a story to this, and he didn’t comment on the hint of jealousy in his voice. Jack turned to him then, a sad sort of smile on his face.

“The world can be terribly ironic.”

 

-

 

_Jack sat, concrete wall cold on his back as he watched Miles pace up and down the small room. The sounds of his footsteps were a nice change from the scratching and groaning that was on the other side of the only door._

_To put the situation lightly - they were fucked._

_Miles turned sharply, hand rested pensively against his chin. “How many bullets you got?”_

_Jack half heartedly lifted his gun, checking the chamber. Three. He had three bullets. He looked back up._

_“Not enough.”_

_Miles started up his pacing once more. Jack gazed his eyes over his friend, reading the tension in his shoulders and the hard set to his eyes. Still, his movements were quick and Jack knew his brain was racing, trying to think of any possible way out. Jack wasn’t hopeful. Miles stopped suddenly, sighing as he looked towards the rusted green door. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and low._

_“We’re not making it out of here, are we?”_

_When Jack didn’t reply Miles slid down the wall, letting their knees press together._

_Jack had always been terribly fond of Miles. The man was loud and energetic and Jack would never admit it, but he had grown to enjoy hearing the man speak - tell stories of robots and science and a shitty camp counsellor he once had. He even doing the voices to match. They’d met a few days into the virus, back when people were easy to trust, and luckily for Jack, Miles had turned out to be okay._

_The gun was heavy in his hands, three metal shots each calling his name, and god damn if Jack wasn’t listening._

_“Miles.”_

_“Mm.”_

_“There's still one way out.”_

“Oh, Jack.” Michael breathed, reaching out and placing a hand on the other mans shoulder. God knows Michael had considered that option once or twice before.

_He felt Miles’ eyes on him, not wanting to look and read the look on his face. It wasn’t a look he needed to see._

_“Is that what you want?”_

_Jack closed his eyes, leaning his head back to rest against the cold wall. It did nothing to stop the thoughts that were seeping their way into his mind._

_“I think I’d prefer something a little faster than being torn apart by broken finger nails.”_

_Miles laughed slightly at that - a scoff of a noise that calmed Jacks nerves._

_“I think you’re right.”_

_Jack looked at him then. Miles’s eyes were red and Jack could tell that he was anxious. He was fidgeting with his own gun, turning it over in his hands._

_“So how do we do this?”_

_“I think you just pull the trigger.”_

_Miles laughed, choking on the tears that were now running. “So that’s what I’ve been doing wrong.”_

_Jack grinned. “I’ve been carrying you this whole time.”_

_A silence fell as their laughter died down and a heavy cloud of dread hung over the two men. Jack cocked his gun, taking a deep breath and flicking the safety off. “Let’s do it together.”_

_Miles nodded, doing the same. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”_

_Jack raised the gun to his temple, the metal scorching against his cool skin. He ignored the way his hand shook, allowing his finger to rest lightly over the trigger._

_“Jack.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“I’m real glad we met.”_

_If five words could save a human life, Jack would never have died that day. He smiled._

_“The feeling’s mutual, Miles. On three?”_

_The shift of metal told Jack that his friend was nodding. “Alright then.”_

_“One.”_

_There was a readjustment of grip._

_“Two.”_

_Eyes closed for the final time._

_“Three.”_

_A trigger was pulled._

There was movement by the door and Jack and Michael both turned to see Ryan getting to his feet, running a hand over a tired expression. Jack addressed Michael one last time.

“Like I said, the world can be terribly ironic.”

Then he moved away, grinning at Ryan with a practiced ease and leaving Michael alone at the windows edge. He took another look at the other rooftops, just in time to watch the geek slip over the side.

 

-

 

“Okay, you get a million dollars but every time you touch paper, you get 5 paper cuts somewhere on your body.”

Michael readjusted the bag on his shoulder, looking between the backs of the two heads in front of him.

“How can I touch the money though? Can I wear gloves?”

“Nope.” Gavin popped the p.

“So I’m forced to have paper-cuts? Fuck that dude.”

Geoff and Gavin had volunteered to transport Michael back to his hotel and had been playing a game they’d made up since the journey had started. Gavin had directed a few questions his way but Geoff mostly ignored him.

Michael wasn’t entirely sure why the older man had come if he was so intent on imagining Michael didn’t exist, but he suspected it was to make sure he got well out of town. That, or he planned to kill him.

“What do you think, Michael? You taking the money?” Gavin turned, walking backwards in favour of looking at Michael as he spoke. In doing so, he tripped over a discarded bin lid, landing with a heavy clang.

Geoff started to laugh, a noise that Michael was yet to hear, but he quickly silenced himself, holding up a hand for quiet. There was a slow rumble of scuffing shoes and low groans, of haunted pleas that begged to be saved. It was getting closer.

The two men left standing immediately crouched down as Gavin moved into a squat, looking towards the direction that the noise was coming to. The direction that they were heading in.

Michael’s hotel only had one way in, which was partially why he’d chosen it.

“We’re gonna need a distraction.” Michael whispered, one of the few things he’d said on their walk.

Gavin looked between the two of them for a second before nodding. “I can do that.”

He moved to stand, but Geoff grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to keep him down. Gavin stumbled at the motion, a confused look on his face.

“What? I’ll be back. Besides,” he tapped the material that hung from his slender frame - denim, “I wanna prove Jeremy wrong.”

Michael smiled at that, or maybe he was smiling at the man who was going to risk his life so quickly to save his own. He knew the Brit would be fine, but the thought was there.

Geoff didn’t seem as pleased, hand still wrapped tightly around Gavin before he sighed and let go.

“I’ll see you back at the tower,” Gavin nodded, “and i’ll see you around, boi!” Gavin called out with a grin before jumping up and running directly into the cluster of death, hooting and hollering as he went.

Michael made a face at the sudden nickname, but he couldn’t deny the small warmth that started in his chest.

A cold hand wrapped around the material of his shirt, pulling him sideways and from his thoughts.

“Come on.” Geoff’s voice was rough, clearly not okay with sacrificing Gavin for Michael. “We need to move.”

The pair started to slowly creep round the hoard, Gavin’s British accent slowly fading as he draws their attention away. It wasn’t long before they were able to stand up and slowly jog towards the entrance of the hotel. Much to Michael’s surprise, Geoff entered with him.

“So you cleared this whole place out by yourself?” He asked as Michael led the way to his own room. He didn’t miss the doubt in the other mans voice.

“Yep. Took me a damn long time but I did it.” He threw as much determination into his words as he could, the want to prove himself worthy to an immortal man coming back once more.

There wasn’t a reply, but Michael could have sworn he heard a mumbled ‘impressive’ come from behind him.

They didn’t talk anymore as they kept on through the hotel.

Michael’s room was on the third floor. It held a single bed and a variety of storage furniture's. There was a wide mass of pillows on the bed, spilling onto the floor and multiple blankets screwed up into a ball. It was relatively small, but he’d tried staying in the penthouse of the building and found the room too large to be filled by only one person.

Loneliness, was what it was. He couldn’t stay in the bigger rooms because any sound he made echoed and reminded him that he was the only one there. He piled the pillows and the blankets for warmth and he’d never admit it, but on particularly rough nights he liked to shape them into a form that made him feel less alone. The curtains were permanently closed so he couldn’t be tempted onto the balcony and over the railing. Michael had taken the mirrors down because he kept seeing her in the corner of his eye. It was relatively small, and odd, but there was never anybody around to judge him.

He immediately went for where he kept his food, pulling open a small cabinet door to check he hadn’t been robbed whilst he was out.

“Didn’t take you for someone who plays with dolls.”

Michael whipped round at Geoffs amused and mocking tone. He’d almost forgotten that he was there. He could see one of the dolls from his imaginary cult in the mans painted hand.

“Give me that. Don’t touch it.” Michael lunged forward and ripped the doll from Geoffs grip, snarling as he pressed the toy close to his chest.

It was dumb, to attach the meaning of a doll to a woman who’d never even laid eyes on it, but this particular one had red hair and he couldn’t help the thoughts of Lindsay that came when he saw it.

“Jesus, calm down.” Geoff raised his hands in surrender, frowning.

Michael turned away, placing the doll down on the bed. He resisted the urge to smooth down it’s hair. When he spoke, he didn’t bother turning back around.

“I take it you can find your own way out.”

There was no response, but after a beat he heard a sigh and the soft click of the door opening and closing. Michael waited just a moment longer, listened out for the footsteps that faded as they disappeared down the corridor, before picking up the doll and sitting down on the bed.

He fixed her hair, ran his thumb over the soft material and thought of anything but the men he’d met and lost all in twenty four hours.

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my first achievement hunter fic! lets see how this goes. 
> 
> thanks for reading! feel free to leave kudos, a comment, or find me on tumblr @sig-nifier!
> 
> check out my other fics if they're fandoms that you're interested in and thanks again!


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